


Dearest Mother

by idiotequed



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotequed/pseuds/idiotequed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only it were that I could truly put this to paper and try your patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dearest Mother

Dearest Mother, 

I must begin with a confession of my intention: I shall be highly unorthodox herewith, finding now that I cannot quiet my mind of all that it would tell you and recognizing too that it serves as a productive exercise to attempt an organization of such. It has not been so very long since my last letter, less so since I received your most welcome response, but I trust that you will find my alacrity now not a symptom of idle hands. If only it were that I could truly put this to paper and try your patience. 

In answer to your inquiries, and I am ever delighted by your reception of my description of noble Anna, I suspect I would risk outright poetry were I to attempt to describe her at any length, and still my words would be insufficient to equal her. You must remember my past attempts at the written verse! However earnest my effort and however exuberant your encouragement, I think we would both, if pressed to honesty, admit it as a weakness. I may yet succumb this night and so I entreat your continued humor of my appreciation of such a woman. I must confess again to you: I do not know that I will long be able to resist seeking the comfort of fancy.

I do not intend to speak so vaguely, Mother. It is only that I wish to tell you all and nothing, to leave you with no misunderstanding and spare you all worry. Do not fret and certainly do not do so on my behalf. I hope only and most sincerely that

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother, 

[Dictatum erat]

I was most remiss in expressing my pleasure at hearing of your activities and good health, and must now prioritize firmly urging you to continue like. I made no secret of my vast concern for your prolonged isolation and think often of how you benefited from those small, gentle reminders to see to yourself and your welfare. Please offer my gratitude to Adam for his company, though be careful to separate such sentiment from any changed mind on our last discussion, as I look full forward to resuming it. 

My truest heart recoils to think of ever misleading you and of ever communicating to you falsehoods. I thus must tell you, while I keep hopeful that this war will soon be finished, my confidence in my swift return to your side, with or without my most admired, has recently abated. In this minute, with such thoughts, to imagine what news you may hear in a few weeks’ time fills me most absolutely with

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

[Dictatum erat]

Tonight the sky glitters with stars and the air surpasses brisk cold. Though Winter most assuredly holds fast, the canopy overhead loses no beauty. I recently had the most fortunate opportunity to share the magnificent splendor of the night sky with Anna, the arrival of William’s telescope providing the opportunity to extend an invitation. She remains uncannily true to my own heart, as I saw in her the same awe which continues to threaten my very breath. Truly, she expressed regard for both the unknown reaches of the Lord’s ordered glory and for what man has managed, in his quixotic and grasping genius, to puzzle out from His mystery. It does not seem possible to overstate the quality of Anna’s character. Perhaps you laugh to read me go on so and I do hope it. It pleases me to imagine you smiling. You must now laugh once more and delight in the security of your proved opinion: over these years you urged a true expression of my person. I confess I doubted that any of my parts could hope to equal or greater impress than the uniform and its afforded position. Permit yourself a moment of smug conviction, as Anna felt closest beneath the stars. It is with a blush at my nerve that I tell you: I requested that she call me Edmund and she obliged. 

Without delving into the nettlesome particulars, shortly thereafter I was further able to uniquely assist Anna. I hope to do so still again with regard to the troubling binds she retains to her Patriot husband, which have cost her so extensively. Please do not suspect my motives as underhanded and presuming, though I should hardly have need to say, trusting your knowledge of your son. As you must have inferred, I had the unhappy responsibility of enforcing much of the decrees that so inconvenienced her. Though Anna proves herself yet again in never expressing or, indeed, seeming to possess ill will, understanding I am sure with full rationale the necessity of the law, I more and more regret her trials. They highlight her uncanny strength, to be sure, but I wish to spare her any further suffering that unjustly falls upon her from the misdeeds of that disloyal man. 

Mother, I would that I could send to you a portraiture. My illustrations are but a paltry imitation and would do Anna unforgivable disservice. My mind cannot release her now, not as 

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

Please know and trust above all your mind, your heart, and your soul. I believe as I must believe that within them, whatever the news to reach you, you will remain unshaken in your faith. I would never presume to beg that you think of me as beyond reproach. Instead, I beg that you never doubt your capability in raising your son. Believe and never question that I fully embraced all that you said and taught, so with Father, and if you must, then strive to a falsis principiis proficisci, to conclude as you will. Please believe that I

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

What marvelous hands Anna possesses! So strong and able in her work, they and she should reasonably give to one the impression of roughened toil, yet when arranged beside mine on the keys of the harpsichord, how delicate and fine! How

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

Do you recall the moment when I first arrived home in my uniform? New and brilliantly red, I felt it a beacon in our then so long depressed house. Remember, though I plead you absolve the reminder, that you wept. I saw in your gracious features due pride, but I saw too pain and the infertile delineations of regret. Remember now, I most ardently implore, what I said then to you: we must only nourish pride in this as surely there can be no greater task than to serve one’s country and king, and certainly thus, the Lord. All must happen for a reason, that reason so rarely if ever known and understood by man so small. I thought every promotion and success an affirmation of the rightness of this path, however much it diverged from the childish whimsies you and Father generously encouraged.

I must confess. I abuse your ear for confessions, only know and always know that with you I have ever known the comfort of acceptance without condition and in turn desire only to be truthful. 

Mother, I must confess, I have doubt.

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,  


It is to me a sizable comfort to think that we share the same sky and that you may be able to step now outside and view the constellations little shifted. Do you feel now and presently, against reason, that I think of you? Please forgive my excess sentiment in praying that you do. I would that I could bequeath to both you and Anna my telescope and effects. I hope it not too much to presume that you would gladly see it in her possession, knowing her so well now from my letters. If she might find a moment’s peace reflecting upon the heavens, then perhaps this

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

Winter must grasp you as well and I pray that you will be sure to keep warm. That house, as with so many others, welcomes the draft and you are so determined to be strong and frugal. I mean to say, as ever, that you must take good care of yourself, and worry not 

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

Please forgive

 

\--

 

Dearest Mother,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your loving son,

Edmund

**Author's Note:**

> Too pretentious for my own good, and so, end clarity: these are mental compositions while he is imprisoned. Alas, his mother will receive none of it.
> 
> The inspiration is of course: http://www.amc.com/shows/turn/talk/2015/04/a-letter-from-edmund-hewlett-to-his-mother-in-england


End file.
